


how many ways can i say "i love you"?

by Nebbles



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Firsts, Fluff, M/M, anyway i love them, i am compelled as the queen of rarepairs to give you all food as well, i'm going to give you all rarepair brainworms you're all going down with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:21:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebbles/pseuds/Nebbles
Summary: The five times Claude tries to have a perfect first for him and Ignatz and things go slightly awry, and the one time he gets it right.
Relationships: Claude von Riegan/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 17
Kudos: 54





	how many ways can i say "i love you"?

The first time they share a kiss, it’s as awkward as one would expect. Claude’s nose bumps against Ignatz’s glasses, and it sort of ruins the thrill and spark that a first kiss should be like.

That’s to say either of them care about such things. They end up sharing a laugh, along with Claude sharing a comment of how he’ll have to learn to work around those. But hey, he’s a brilliant tactician, isn’t he? What’s a pair of glasses to him?

He opts to slip them off Ignatz’s face, but just this time. He’ll deal with the ins and outs of kissing his bespectacled boyfriend as time goes on. It’s something Ignatz hardly seems to mind, and this way, Claude gets to study his eyes just a little closer.

He’s not an artist, and he certainly can’t describe the colors he’s able to see when their faces are inches apart. They’re warm and inviting, soft, and it makes Claude’s heart skip a beat -- just a little. It’s better to leave the fancy, artsy words to Ignatz anyway.

Maybe he’s overthinking this. First kisses are important, start of a relationship, stuff he’s heard Hilda gush about when he first mentioned, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m pretty sure I have a thing for Ignatz.’ Of course, going to Hilda for romantic advice was an… interesting decision. She’s his best friend, he trusts in her, but maybe overplanning something this simple wasn’t going to be filed in his brilliant schemes.

Ending the war, bringing peace to Fodlan, tearing down its borders, and getting a perfect first kiss. Yeah, all of those things were absolutely related.

Hilda didn’t appreciate his joke, which Claude found absolutely insulting to his honor.

Able to shove that all aside, Claude brings his hands to cup around Ignatz’s face, and gently presses their lips together. It goes smoother this time, less proverbial bumps in the road, and he just about melts when Ignatz smiles into the kiss.

“I really hope I don’t have to take off my glasses every time you decide to kiss me.” Ignatz’s voice lilts, as if he’s still in a daze. He probably is, nearly enchanted by the way his eyes are shining.

He was that good of a kisser, huh?

“Eh, give me a day or two. I’ll get used to it.” His own mind’s still swimming as well, if he’s going to be honest with himself.  
  
There’s a certain softness to Ignatz’s laugh, one that Claude finds himself absolutely enamored with. He’s graced with it as Ignatz leans against him, settling his hands around Claude’s waist.

This isn’t perfect, sure, but in Claude’s books, it’s more than good enough for him.

* * *

The first time Claude attempts to take Ignatz on a date, Judith of all people comes to find him, nearly dragging him away by the ear.

“I thought I was past the age of dragging you to meetings, boy,” oh she will NOT drop that nickname, “but it’s apparent even as an adult, my job’s never done.”

“How did you even know where I was?” Well, he wasn’t exactly trying to hide from her.

Alright, perhaps he was, but that’s hardly the point.

“You think I don’t know where to find you?” Judith’s look is one of a disappointed mother.

Claude thinks how impressive it is how she manages to do that. Really, it’s like a sixth sense.

“I thought we had this month’s mission under control.” He can’t go and abandon all responsibilities. There’s still plenty he hasn’t done, but Claude figures he can grant himself a small reprieve. They weren’t even planning to leave the monastery grounds, either.

The idea of resting while watching Ignatz paint? Yeah, what a wild and crazy night they have planned. Yet if there’s some hitch in the plan, some wrinkle that needs smoothing, Claude understands where he’s needed.

It’s disappointing, and he’s sure Ignatz isn’t upset, realizing as “leader of the Alliance”, he has duties to uphold. (He’s still to mention Almyra. When the time is right, he will.)

It’s a balancing act, having time for both love and war, and Claude is hardly ignorant in knowing this is the way things were going to be. It’s why he was almost hoping love would be able to wait, just a while longer, until it was all over. He also knows that keeping his head on straight is important as well, and that he’s allowed to be happy. And if that happiness is found every time Ignatz smiles up at him, so be it. Including Ignatz in his dream is something he can do.

The council comes and goes, and Claude’s never been more than happy to feel the fresh air on his face as he heads over to the dormitories. Given the hour, Claude can surmise there’s a fair chance Ignatz has already gone to bed.

By some miracle, Ignatz is still awake, an array of paints strewn about his desk.

Claude only makes it a good fifteen minutes before he falls asleep in Ignatz’s bed, more tired than he initially imagined.

Ignatz brings the covers over him, placing a soft kiss to the side of his head, a light smile on his lips. “You can watch me paint another time.”

* * *

The first time Claude attempts cooking for Ignatz, it’s somehow on the night that rations are low.

Either he’s losing his touch on having a plan for everything, or this is just one of the unluckiest streaks of his life.

They’ve had a steady supply of food since meeting up with Judith, but given the many mouths to feed, lulls do tend to happen. He isn’t a poor cook, either. Experimenting with spices and the like has always been something to enjoy, especially before he’d come to Fodlan. Putting this skill on display for Ignatz was something he’s wanted to do for a while, anyway. He can cook! He really can! Ignatz is going to be happy with this.

Rather, that’s what he’s telling himself, looking at the two plates before them.

The meal that’s made is palatable; it tastes cozy and homemade, but the portion given feels rather sad. He could have taken Ignatz out to somewhere in the town, but there’s something more special about making a meal for the person you care for. Privacy is welcome as well, given how busy he is as of recent.

Of course, the meal looks more like a hearty snack, as he had to leave enough food for the others. It smells of the comforts of home, and Claude knows once they make it to Almyra, he’ll make Ignatz the best dinners he’s ever tasted.

“Sorry about dinner being like this.” There’s hardly a need to apologize, but damn, he feels a little bad about the string of unfortunate events. “You’d think Raphael and Leonie staged another eating contest.”

This makes Ignatz laugh, and it still remains one of the best things that he’s ever heard. “It’s alright! I’m honored that you took time out of your day to do this for me. I know how busy you tend to be.”

“I didn’t get manhandled by Judith this time, so I was able to do that much.” That counts as a personal victory, right? “Still, you deserve a better meal than this.”

Ignatz waves a hand dismissively, warm smile still on his face. “The fact you did this is enough. I promise. You have a lot on your shoulders, and I would hate to stress you out even more.”

“Yeah, but I wanted us to have dinner together so I could destress.” The world really didn’t want him to have any dates, did it? Maybe he angered someone in a past life, and this is just karma showing up at the worst possible moment.

“And you’re worrying yourself, Claude.” Damn, he’s got him there. “One failed attempt at dinner isn’t going to change how I feel about you. I still love you either way.”

It’s not the first declaration of love they’ve shared, but it somehow manages to give Claude butterflies. Maybe he’s gotten soft, but hey, he can’t find anything wrong with that. Not when Ignatz looks at him like that.

He supposes if Ignatz loves him, things can’t be that bad. He sets his plate to the side, fingers tracing along his jaw before pressing their lips together.

And this time, he doesn’t even bump against Ignatz’s glasses.

* * *

The first time Claude takes Ignatz for a ride on his wyvern, it’s nothing short of a disaster. A rather miniscule one, but one nonetheless.

A startling realization hits him: Ignatz is afraid of heights.

The flight itself hardly lasts long, given the way Ignatz is clinging to Claude’s very being, face pressed into his back, refusing to move.

In a matter of minutes, they’re back on the ground, Claude rubbing Ignatz’s back as he tries to catch his breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me heights made you uncomfortable?” Ignatz is squeezing his hand as if his life’s depending on it. “I wouldn’t have been upset. I’m more upset I ended up scaring the daylights out of you.”

“I thought I would be alright, and…” Ignatz takes in a deep breath, leaning against Claude’s hand, “you seemed so eager to take me flying. How could I say no?”

He pulls a face, one slightly disappointed. It seems that Ignatz's habit of still not thinking his own needs are important hasn’t left him completely. It’s never bad to consider others, but even so, Claude wants Ignatz to remember he matters just as much.

“If you said no, I would’ve thought of something else for us to do.” The idea of just lying among the flowers for hours on end would be wonderful enough. They’d rest upon fields of gold, lost in admiring one another, thinking they’re both more lovely than the blooms surrounding them.

Claude thinks to himself how ridiculously romantic that is, and wonders if he’s been hanging around Lorenz too much.

“Still, I would’ve felt guilty.” He gives a soft sigh, eyes finally meeting Claude’s. “You’ve been trying very hard to have free time as of late. And would this make you happy, then…”

“But that’s not worth the fact I accidentally shaved a year off your life.” His poor wyvern feels guilty too; he just knows it. No one likes upsetting Ignatz. “I want to make sure you’re happy too in all of this. Not, y’know, fearing for your life up there.”

“I am happy, Claude. Never doubt that.” The squeeze he offers Claude’s hand is reassuring now, not out of fear. “I admit, keeping up with you has made my life that much more interesting. I don’t mind it at all.”

His heart finds itself skipping a beat.

It seems Ignatz notices the look on his face, and he just laughs softly. “But yes, it seems flying is something we won’t be doing in the future.”

* * *

The first time Claude gives Ignatz flowers, ones that he grew himself in the greenhouse, a string of inconveniences follow.

For starters, he’s busier than ever. It makes sense, with Enbarr around the corner, this exhausting war ready to come to its conclusion. Fodlan’s new dawn is seconds away from peeking over the horizon, ready to bathe this land in a new light. The meetings continue well into the night, and at times they don’t stop when sunlight filters through the windows.

That’s less of an issue itself, given there’s an attendant in the greenhouse, ensuring the flowers don’t wither. Really, who can mess up caring for flowers? It’s a bit of a bother he can’t check on them himself as often, but it’s alright. He’ll make time.

When he finally has time to spare, it pours.

Sure, flowers like water, but nothing like the heavy rainfall that’s pouring outside, threatening to beat down the poor, innocent bouquet in his hands.

He knows he can wait, but it’s better to give them sooner rather than later. With how stressed the final march is making everyone, he’s doing what he can to add some levity to the air of the monastery.

And that includes surprising his partner with something such as this.

It’s a mad rush to the dormitories as he’s blinking back rain from his eyes, determined enough to not let this deter him. Whether he’s being over dramatic about this or not hardly crosses his mind. He isn’t bothered, so to speak, by his last attempts at romance somehow going wrong.

It’s just keeping Ignatz happy. If he’s serious about him (and gods, is he ever), and wishes for him to see Almyra by his side, it’s giving himself reminders that he’s the one.

Once he’s made it to Ignatz’s room, he just stares, mouth agape at the soaking mess Claude is, and the rain-beaten bouquet in his hand.  
  
“Goddess…” Ignatz shakes his head, pulling him inside as he drapes a blanket around his shoulders, looking down at the bedraggled flowers. “...you remembered my favorite.”

The forget-me-nots have seen better days -- their life in the greenhouse, actually -- but Ignatz looks at them anyway and just smiles. “Is there a particular reason you couldn’t wait to do this?”

“I just wanted to give them to you when we still had the chance.” He pushes back some hair from his eyes. “We’re going to Enbarr soon. I have full faith in us, don’t get me wrong. But what’s more romantic than pre-battle flowers?”

“Claude…” Ignatz shakes his head as he sets the bouquet on his desk, searching for something to help dry off his hair with. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“I feel bad for the poor flowers. The rain had no mercy on them whatsoever.” Ignatz offers him a small towel, and he begins to dry his hair. “They never saw it coming. Pretty sure I heard them crying, so sad to be rained on -- it was a tragedy, truly.”

At the very least, Claude can still manage to make Ignatz laugh, and that’s all he needs.

* * *

And then, the first time they make love, it’s perfect.

Everything falls into place, somehow. It’s been many moons since the war’s come to its end, since the two of them have resided in Almyra. The pair finds themselves relaxing on a lazy morning, languid kisses beginning to trail down Ignatz’s neck, slow hands working their way through his hair.

Perhaps because Claude’s been able to stop worrying so much about the little things between them, and perhaps it’s because Ignatz’s confidence has grown. It’s not that Claude cast doubts upon himself nor their relationship; he’s always been concerned of having someone to help shape his dream into something tangible. That someone out there would share his goal, and help to shape it.

And that is what he and Ignatz found in one another.

They’re able to communicate their love with every touch, trusting one another in full.

Ignatz’s hands roam over the canvas that is Claude’s body, working to memorize every contour he finds. The other is happy to return every kiss, every act of love that makes this moment feel more and more wonderful.

The afterglow itself is sweeter, Ignatz buried against his neck, breathing in Claude’s scent. Claude admires the faint constellations of lovebites that dot his neck and shoulders. Warm sunlight filters through the drawn curtains in their room, bathing them in angelic light, nestled in a cornucopia of blankets and pillows. Neither of them could imagine themselves in a more perfect morning, enrobed in peace.

Mornings like this come rare, Claude knows, given work never seems to be done. That’s to be expected, and having his husband-to-be curled up against his chest does warm him, much more than the sun does.

“Hey,” Claude whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of Ignatz’s head, “I love you.”

Ignatz peeks up at him, a lazy, sleepy smile upon his lips. “And I love you as well, Claude. With all that I am.”

Sleep dares to claim them both, the still morning air surrounding them in a lullaby. Whatever duties can wait perhaps a few more hours, granting the lovers a moment’s rest.

As Claude drifts off into a blissful slumber, he can only think of how everything’s falling into place, and how sweet happiness tastes.


End file.
